


A direwolf by any other name

by myrish_lace



Series: Law of Attraction [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Jonsa Summer Challenge, Trials, Workplace Relationship, there will be smut later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 18:28:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11514981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: Jon and Sansa are both lawyers at the same large law firm in Chicago. They worked together on a trial, and grew closer during the long days and nights. They're a couple now, and they have their own apartment.Another unusual case has come along for the two of them - one that involves direwolves, landlord/tenant laws and the Americans with Disabilities Act. Sansa's excited about the project, and spending more time with Jon. She's worried, though, about the ramifications of the press coverage the case is already getting. Her friend Satin, who manages the firm's press inquiries, is worried too.





	A direwolf by any other name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyMD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMD/gifts).



> Written for Day 7 of the Jonsa Summer Challenge. I'm hoping this will be the start of another multi-chapter trial installment in the Law of Attraction series. We'll see where it goes! :) Thanks to LadyMD for encouraging me to try this again!

Jon had a smile on his face when Sansa came into the kitchen after her shower. He was sitting at the table, his coffee mug forgotten, looking at his laptop.

“What on earth are you grinning for, Jon Snow, before you’ve even had your coffee?”

Jon just gestured to his screen. “Email’s for both of us. Take a look.”

Sansa let out a small squeal. “A new pro bono case – and we’ll be on it together!”

Jon drew her down for a long kiss. “Late nights and diet Coke it is.”

An earlier case at the law firm where they worked – Tyrell & Tyrell – had brought then closer together, and they’d fallen for each other during the long hours they spent with one another during the trial. They’d been together for nine months, and gotten their own apartment three months ago. Still, they worked in different departments at the firm. Sometimes Sansa was frustrated at how little she saw of Jon now that their trial was over.

And here it was - another case. Another chance to work alongside Jon day and night. Sansa was so pleased, so lost in Jon’s embrace, she didn’t even take the time to read what the case was about.

***

She found out later that morning. Jon had booked a conference room so they could talk through the issues.

Sansa was having a hard time accepting what Jon had just told her.

“A what?”

“Landlord-tenant dispute about a dog.”

Sansa crossed her arms. “There must be more.”

Jon’s lips twitched. “There is. A young woman suffering from blindness brought her service seeing eye dog to her apartment without telling the landlord.”

“And?”

“No pets in the apartment without prior consent.”

The marble lobby was crowded this morning, and Sansa saw Margaery, dressed in a stunning Armani suit, usher a group of bankers into the prime conference room. The room was flanked with leather chairs and offered floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a commanding view of the city skyline.

“The dog’s been checked for fleas and rabies, so the landlord can’t complain about that.” Jon was deep into the details already. She loved that about him. It was also incredibly frustrating.

“Fleas? Rabies? A tenant and a dog? And that’s a Tyrell case how? We don’t do dogs, Jon. We do multi-million dollar mergers and trade secrets battles for Microsoft.”

“Our other case was about homeless people. And that wasn’t worth it?” Jon said softly.

Sansa sat back. “Of course it was. Of course. But that-“

“Was a high profile case with a large impact. And so is this.” Jon slid a binder across to her.

Sansa let out a small gasp when she flipped open the first page. “Jon it can’t be. It can’t. There aren’t any more of them.” The direwolf in the picture was large, and menacing, almost as tall as the young woman standing next to it.

“Not here, no. There are a few in Alaska, and Canada. And guess where she’s from.”

Sansa sighed. “Alaska. Right. But why are we championing direwolves, Jon?”

“We’re not. We’re championing the right of a person with disabilities to choose his or her service animal. Free from prejudice.”

“But Jon. Direwolves  _are_  dangerous.”

Jon cocked his head. “Why do you think so?”

Sansa knew she was in for it now. Jon was in full lawyer mode. He had an argument already constructed.

“Well, there’s that TV show ‘Hounds from Hell’, and they’re used in fighting pits, and I mean, just look at it Jon!”

“Turn the page, Sansa. Read Shireen’s story.”

This was Jon’s strength, connecting judges and juries to clients’ stories. It was a special gift, because it meant removing himself from the spotlight, and bringing out the best in others.

Most trial lawyers loved to grandstand. It was effective too.

Oberyn Martell could bring a courtroom to a standstill with a gesture of his hand. The top performers usually had huge egos to match.

Jon didn’t. Which was probably why he ran the pro bono clinic. Most large firms had them, to demonstrate their commitment to “social justice”. The clinics took cases for clients who couldn’t pay. Death penalty appeals, for example, were a popular specialty. Clinics looked great on the firm’s website and could be a draw for young, idealistic law students. Some firms ran their clinics with a skeleton crew, paying lip service to the grand idea of “equal access for all.”

Tyrell & Tyrell, however, had, in Sansa’s opinion, made the smart move and built the pro bono clinic into a thriving practice. Jon headed up the rotating team of lawyers, paralegals and interns who took on high profile cases with a large impact’.

And apparently, Shireen and her direwolf were the centerpiece of the clinic’s new case.

So Sansa opened the binder and read about Shireen. She’d been legally blind since birth. She’d struggled to find a service dog to help her, because she was so shy. Ghost had slipped onto her family’s back porch in the Alaska woods one day. She’d ended up with Ghost’s head in her lap.

Jon scooted next to her and showed Sansa his laptop. “Here she is being interviewed.”

Shireen kept her head down, and it was hard for to hear her even when she was wearing a microphone. She was sitting in a news studio with Ghost at her feet.

“I hope – I hope I get to keep him, because – I don’t know, if there’s another dog who would have me.”

Ghost’s great head turned to her, and he nudged her gently. She clutched at his fur.

“And I know he loves me.”

Sansa had tears in her eyes.

She was also running the basic legal analysis in the background.

“No more interviews, Jon.”

“Already done.”

They didn’t want Shireen to make a stray remark on camera that could be used against her later in a courtroom. This was one of Sansa’s specialties as a white collar crime lawyer. Sometimes the best service she could offer was to get her clients to stop talking to the press.

Sansa dabbed at her eyes with a Kleenex. Jon had one ready for her. She smiled at the reminder of how well he knew her.

“So the story’s touching, Jon, and sweet, but what’s the long view?” Tyrell & Tyrell picked pro bono cases carefully, with an eye towards important legal issues that would make a difference to a large group of people.

The long view, in the words of the firm’s matriarch, Olenna Tyrell.

Jon clicked the video closed. “The Americans with Disabilities Act. If landlords can bar one animal based on public perception, they can bar others. The law wasn’t designed to be shaped by the whim of landlords. It’s designed to provide reasonable accommodation for those who need it.”

“Yes, reasonable, Jon, but who decides that?”

Jon smiled. “Exactly. What do you know, really know, about direwolves?”

Sansa sighed. Jon was right. “Nothing. I don’t have any first-hand knowledge of direwolves. Like most people I just think they’re large, and mean, and dangerous. I grew up watching Hounds of Hell, just like other kids. But I don’t have any proof.”

‘And you’ve never met this direwolf, Sansa. Neither had the landlord. He just saw a vicious wolf, because that’s what he’s been trained to see, and rejected Ghost out of hand. Because ‘direwolves are dangerous.’ But what if a direwolf is what she needs? The only animal that can help her?”

“We’re going to have to make the case about Ghost and Shireen, Jon. About how this particular direwolf is perfect for this girl. Because frankly, I can understand why most landlords wouldn’t want direwolves in their buildings.”

Jon nodded, and they read through the rest of the material together.

*******

Later that day, Sansa ran into Satin at the “water cooler.” In reality, it was a sleek counter stocked full of metal canisters with spigots serving up Starbucks coffee. Tasteful wicker baskets held a fancy array of tea bags, and there was hot water on tap.

The firm wanted to keep its attorneys happy, and caffeinated. The firm also wanted to keep its attorneys at their desks, doing work they could bill to clients, rather than sneaking out for coffee breaks.

A perk and a leash at the same time.

Satin greeted Sansa warmly. They worked together regularly on her white-collar crime cases. Satin handled the firm’s press inquires. He was a neat, slender man who could pull off wearing bow ties to the office. Somehow, he made it look rakish rather than obnoxious. He crossed paths with Jon when the firm fielded calls about the pro bono work it did.

Satin flipped through the tea bags as if they were index cards. “How can they expect me to do what needs doing, if there’s no Zen Green Tea here?”

Sansa sipped her own Earl Grey tea. “What, the ‘zen’ in it really makes a difference?”

Satin cocked an eyebrow at her. “Says the woman who drinks four cups of that” – he wrinkled his nose – “whatever that awful concoction you have in your hand is. You’re just lucky. They keep your favorite in stock.”

Sansa smirked. “You and the two other people in this five-hundred person firm who need your ‘zen’ fix really need to start a committee.”

He let out a long-suffering sigh and selected green tea without the ‘zen’. “I assume you’re here to talk about Shireen.”

Given that Shireen had already done one press interview, Sansa suspected Satin would already be familiar with Shireen’s story. She was right.

“Can’t I just be happy to see my friend?”

“You put three sugars in that mug. I saw you. You’re nervous. And you should be. This case is going to be a tricky one.”

Sansa reached for the sugar dispenser. “Okay, you’re scaring me. This is officially a four-packet problem.”

Satin leaned against the counter. “You’re not wrong. The good news is, the direwolf drama has generated a lot of press already. That’s also the bad news. We have to jump on top of this, fast. I need you to get that through to Jon’s pretty, thick head.”

Sansa smirked. “There’s a lot of hair in my way, you know.”

“I’m serious, Sansa. He’s got no bloody idea about the press. Thinks they’re all a bunch of bottom feeders. Again, he might not be wrong, but that doesn’t make them somehow stop calling.”

Jon was obstinate when it came to handling the public side of a case. “I’ll try to talk to him. He’s got this outdated notion that the law’s–“

“Above ‘all that crap,’ right?” Satin smiled. “I’ve heard him. But you and I both know that’s not true. He has no idea what I do for him. He thinks the news articles celebrating our victories just appear out of thin air.”

“And you’re the magician.”

Satin inclined his head. “Well, yes. But I’m not the only one. You do your own share of managing headlines, don’t you?”

She did, though sometimes she despised it. Clients came to the firm when they wanted a story to disappear. When they wanted a plea bargain to be a whisper rather than make waves.

When they wanted to bury the bodies.

Sansa shifted her weight. "Sometimes. But what’s our play here? We don’t want to bury this story, do we?”

Satin shrugged. “Depends which way the case breaks. Walk me back to my office?”

The final moments of a trial verdict got the most exposure, and captured the public’s imagination. Most lawyers knew, though, that the path to a verdict was a long road. Cases often got decided two or three years after they were filed.

And in the meantime, a judge made a variety of rulings. On whether evidence was in or out, or which experts were qualified to testify. It was dull, run-of-the-mill stuff. The wheels of justice grinding slowly. It was also vitally important.

A good lawyer knew the rough odds of the case succeeding after the judge had made a few early calls. It showed which way the wind was blowing. Those first signals helped determine which way the case would break, in the win or lose column, far before the finish line.

Sansa and Satin parted ways on the forty-ninth floor.

Satin put a hand on her arm before she left. “If the direwolf drama breaks well, you and Jon are heroes. Again. Try to sell it to him that way.”

“But what if it breaks badly?”

Satin fixed her with a stare. “You’re smarter than that, Sansa.

Sansa sighed. “Then we bury it. Understood.”


End file.
